Ava’s head was about to explode as they discussed her life as if she weren’t there. Her hand throbbed too and she felt incredibly weary all of a sudden. She just wanted to lie down somewhere dark and sleep for a week and forget that somebody had shot up her house. Her beautiful, beautiful house.
‘Do you think I could just go to the hospital and get seen to first?’ she interrupted them.
It was all the encouragement the paramedic needed. ‘Right. Question time is over,’ he said, stepping in front of them all, and Ava could have kissed him as he took over as efficiently as he’d bandaged her hand earlier. ‘We’re taking her to the nearest hospital.’
Reggie shook his head. ‘No. Ms Kelly sees a private physician on Harley Street.’
The paramedic bristled. ‘It’s nine o’clock at night. Ms Kelly needs an X-ray, possibly a CT scan. She needs a hospital.’
‘The nearest hospital is fine,’ Ava assured the paramedic, before Reggie could say any more.
‘Are you okay to walk to the ambulance?’ the paramedic asked her.
Ava nodded. ‘I can walk.’
Blake checked his watch. He could be home and officially on holidays within half an hour. He could almost taste the cold beer he had waiting in his fridge to celebrate the end of having to deal with Little-Ms-Red-Bikini.
Except Ava Kelly looked far from the diva he’d pegged her as right now.
She looked pale and shaken, her freckles more pronounced. The small cut on her cheekbone was a stark reminder of what had happened to her tonight and part of him felt wrong walking away. Leaving her in the clutches of her shark-like agent. He hesitated. She wasn’t his responsibility; he knew that. He’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and she was a big girl—what she chose to do next was none of his business.
But he didn’t feel she was going to get the wisest counsel from good old Reggie.
‘You need me for anything else, Detective Sergeant?’ he asked.
Ken shook his head. ‘I have your details here if I need to contact you.’
Blake nodded. That was that, then. Duty discharged. But before he could say goodbye her hand reached out and clutched at his forearm. ‘Can you come with me?’
Blake looked at her, startled. What the?
Sure, he’d felt wrong about leaving her but he hadn’t expected her to give him a second thought now she was surrounded by people to look out for her. And even though the same part of him—the honourable part—that had urged him to join the army all those years ago somehow felt obligated to see she was okay, the rest of him wanted nothing to do with Ava Kelly and her crazy celebrity life.
They were done and dusted. He was free.
He was on holiday, for crying out loud.
Not to mention he’d had enough of hospitals to last him a lifetime.
But her yellow-green eyes implored him and the doom he’d felt earlier today pounced. He sighed. ‘Sure.’
* * *
Blake strode into the hospital half an hour later. He’d waited for the mass exodus of press chasing the blue lights of the ambulance at breakneck speed before he followed at a more sedate pace. Then he’d parked his car well away from the main entrance on one of the back streets. He wasn’t sure why but when he spotted the bright lights of cameras flashing into the night as he got closer he was pleased he had.
Being photographed nearly every day on his arrival at Ava’s and questioned every freaking day as to their relationship when clearly he was just the guy running the reno had been bad enough. He didn’t need them spotting his car then adding two and two together and coming up with five.
He entered the hospital and enquired at the front desk and a security guard ushered him along the corridors to Ava. He clenched his hands by his side as he followed. Hospitals weren’t exactly his favourite places and the antiseptic smell was bringing back a lot of unpleasant memories.
They stopped at a closed door where two other hospital security personnel stood, feet apart, alert, scanning the activity at both ends of the corridor. They opened the door for him and the first person he saw was Reggie speaking to a fresh-faced guy, clearly younger than his own thirty-three years, wearing a white coat and a harried expression. Reggie was insisting that a plastic surgeon be made available to suture his esteemed client’s hand.
‘That hand,’ he said, pointing at the appendage in question, ‘is worth a lot of money. I am not going to allow some junior doctor to butcher it any further than it already is.’
The doctor put up his hands in surrender. ‘I’ll page the on-call plastics team.’
‘I need a consultant,’ Reggie insisted. ‘Someone who knows what they’re doing.’
Blake caught a glimpse of the doctor’s face as he backed out of the room. He looked as if he truly regretted coming to work today.
Blake knew exactly how he felt.
He was beginning to think Reggie was actually the bigger diva out of the two of them. He was surprised Ava put up with it. In three months he’d seen her fire an interior decorator, a PA and a personal trainer because they’d all tried to manage her. But she just lay docilely on the hospital trolley and let Reggie run the show.
He wasn’t used to seeing her meek and mild.
But he supposed having your house shot at while you were inside it was probably enough to give anyone pause.
At least there was some colour in her cheeks now.
Ava looked up from her hand to discover Blake was in the room. ‘Oh, hi,’ she said, levering herself up into a sitting position.
The last half an hour had passed in a blur and she’d been unaccountably anxious lying in the CT scanner. The doctor had assured her it was clear but it wasn’t until right now she felt as if it was going to be okay. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way Blake had pushed her to the ground. It played over and over in her head.
He’d just reacted. In a split second. While she’d been confused about what was happening he was diving for her, pulling her down. She was on the ground before the noise had even registered as gunfire.
‘I thought you’d skipped out on me.’
He returned her smile with a fleeting one of his own. It barely made a dent in the firm line of his mouth. Ava wondered how good he would look with a real smile. Would it go all the way to his dark blue eyes? Would it light up his rather austere features? Would it flatten out the lines on his forehead where he frowned a lot? Puff up the sparseness of his cheekbones? Would it break the harsh set of his very square jaw?
‘I said I’d be here.’
Ava blinked at his defensive tone, his dialogue as sparse as his features. A man of few words.
‘Everything check out okay?’ he asked after a moment or two.
This time he sounded gruff and he glanced at Reggie, who was talking on his mobile, as if he was uncomfortable engaging in small talk in front of an audience. Ava was so used to Reggie being around, she barely noticed him any more.
‘CT scan is fine,’ she said. ‘Just waiting for a plastic surgeon for the hand.’
He nodded and she waited for him to say something else but he looked as if he was done. Then Reggie finished his call and started talking anyway. ‘I’ve booked you into your usual suite,’ he said. ‘We’ll organise for a suitcase to be brought to you tomorrow.’
Ava watched the angle of Blake’s jaw tighten at the announcement. ‘I thought the point of lying low was to not go to any of her usual places?’ Blake enquired.
The hardness